


illusions

by Jacks8n



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11988363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacks8n/pseuds/Jacks8n
Summary: Love the outdoors! Just you, me, and our massive unresolved conflicts.





	illusions

Killua and his friends played cards by the light of a dim oil lamp. Gon brazenly pulled aces from his sleeves and Leorio shuffled his playing deck, but Killua couldn’t rat them out to Ikalgo or else they would snitch that he’d been lifting from his discard pile. To have any hope of winning, they all had to maintain the lie.

With everyone cheating (except for Ikalgo, who hadn’t caught on to how they did things yet) it was theoretically fair. Gon, though, was cheating the _most._

Killua ground his teeth and played his card for the turn. Gon stared directly into his eyes as he played his, smile cheeky and goading. Killua’s jaw clenched. He kicked Gon’s shin, and Gon, credit to him, hardly even winced.

In the side room with two bunk beds Alluka was already asleep, along with Kurapika, who’d stumbled down the road to the cabin with his eyes closed and shoulders slumped. Ikalgo and Leorio would be joining them, and Killua and Gon planned to share the old couch. If their relationship survived the game.

“Another round to Gon,” muttered Ikalgo, adding a line to the tally sheet. “Wow. How do you even do it?”

“I’m good at cards games,” said Gon, smiling from ear to ear. “Runs in the family.”

Killua waited until Gon took a sip from his glass to kick him again, and Gon had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing up water.

Leorio buried his head in his hands, glaring down at the cards in play like they owed him money. “Didn’t Killua already play that one, Gon?” asked Leorio, voice a careful monotone.

Killua shot him a warning look.

Gon put a finger on his cheek, pouting like he was actually concerned. “Mm? I don’t think so?”

“Play,” said Ikalgo.

They all put down their cards. Gon won again. Killua gripped the armrest of his chair tight enough the wood creaked. His forehead twitched with the concentration required to not leap over the table.

Ikalgo frowned. “That… makes no sense, actually.”

Killua’s patience snapped. “Gon’s cheating!” Killua shouted, pointing a finger accusingly.

Gon pointed back at him with just as much enthusiasm, if a little less rage. “Killua started it!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

Killua stood up and slammed his hands down hard enough that water jumped out of Gon’s glass. “That’s not an argument you can’t just, just, restate your first point but louder!”

“That’s exactly what _you_ did!” said Gon, springing up to shout in his face.

Killua flapped his arms in the air as though he were under attack by a swarm of wasps, trying to think of something eloquent to demolish Gon’s point with. “Shut up!”

The door to the bunk room screeched open and there stood Kurapika, body tense and aura dark. One hand gripped the doorknob hard enough to turn his knuckles white, and his shoulders shook with unreleased tension. Killua and Gon immediately fell silently, eyes wide.

“Shut. Up.”

Kurapika slammed the door closed. After a moment of recovery, Gon and Killua sat back down, grumbling.

Ikalgo glanced between the two of them. “So you two were both cheating?”

“Yeah,” admitted Gon, devoid of guilt.

“So only me and Leorio were actually playing this game fairly?”

Killua scowled. “N—” 

“Yeah,” said Leorio with a theatrical sigh. Killua turned to him, mouth hanging open with disgust. “I would have told you earlier about these two, but we were having so much fun, I figured why let them ruin it.”

“Oh. Well uh, in that case, you win, ‘cause they’re disqualified and you’ve won way more rounds than me.”

“We’re disqualified!?” said Gon.

“Obviously, you idiot,” said Killua.

Gon stuck his tongue out before muttering something under his breath about “Killua knows _everything_ ”. Killua’s eye twitched.

“But wait!” said Killua, realizing he was getting sidetracked. “Leorio cheated too!”

Ikalgo tapped at the tally sheet. “He’s got like, fifty fewer points than you, man. I don’t see it.”

Killua groaned, banging his head on the table.

“So I win then?” asked Leorio, sweet as a peach.

“Yeah, you win,” said Ikalgo.

Leorio fistpumped triumphantly. He then yelped as both of his shins were bruised.

A new game started after they untangled the actual deck from Gon’s extra one, which was set down in front of Ikalgo. Not that the measure stopped any of them, of course. All it did was create a challenge to see who could steal more cards from the pile. 

After a close victory from Gon, this time ruled fair and square, the cards were put back in the games cabinet.

The cabin they had rented for the weekend only had three rooms. The one they were using right now, which was long and wooden-paneled, combined a kitchen and den. Then there was a cramped bedroom and an even more cramped washroom. Luxury it was not, but it had been available the four days Kurapika had found where their schedules synchronized.

The ceilings were low and the furniture was old, but the place was clean and surrounded by gorgeous woodlands. Earlier in the day, Gon had led him by his hand around the closest lake, pointing out all the edible plants for Killua to try. It had been a taste of old times, but it still hadn’t felt quite the same.

Anger forgotten, Gon splayed over Killua's lap as the four of them watched a gory horror flick. Leorio had been shoved into the other armrest of the couch, occasionally batting Gon's feet away half-heartedly, and Ikalgo got a faded floral armchair to himself.

Gon was warm, the movie was fun to quip at as the characters made stupid decisions, and his friends were all together. It was the sort of night Killua had only dreamed of growing up.

“Come on!” said Killua as “Andy”, wearing a tropical patterned shirt and flip flops in the middle of winter, broke into a haunted arcade.

“He’s so dead,” said Gon, before burping in a way that, despite being very much in love, Killua could only tolerate instead of find endearing.

Andy looked at a sign reading “DO NOT ENTER” and scoffed as though it were ridiculous. Killua cringed giddily at how poor the acting was. Andy’s flip flops flip flopped loudly in the empty, fog-filled, dungeon-like billiards room.

“He’s dumb,” said Gon.

“Coming from you, that means something,” said Killua on reflex. Gon looked up at him with puppy eyes. Killua bent down to give him a quick kiss.

“Ew,” said Leorio.

“Shut up old man,” said Killua.

Leorio twisted in his seat and leaned in, batting his eyelashes. “Do I get a make up kiss too?” he asked cheekily. Killua glared. Leorio, very satisfied with himself, settled back down.

“Oh, here it comes,” said Ikalgo as the music swelled, violins screeching.

Andy rounded the corner.

A dart went straight through his eye.

Killua’s chest froze.

Gon was laughing and Killua couldn’t understand why, but after a moment of icy numbness he laughed along with him hollowly.

“That’s such a cheezy effect,” said Leorio, wiping a tear from his eye.

Killua stared at the screen, fake smile turning into a grimace as another dart landed in Andy’s stomach. Blood sputtered out in big gushes. Blood didn’t look like that. That wasn’t real.

“You okay?” asked Ikalgo, looking over at him. Killua didn’t spot any concern in his expression, so he was probably hiding his discomfort well.

“Yeah,” he said. Shit. His voice sounded weak. Killua cleared his throat, willing away the lump that was settling there. “I’m good.” Better.

Gon pinched his cheek. “What is it?” he asked.

The room spun around Killua violently enough to have him reeling his head back in an effort to balance.

Shit.

Killua’s mouth felt dry. Fear dug talons into his throat and stung at his eyes and made his hands shake.

Gon couldn’t find out.

“Nothing,” said Killua, pulling out Gon’s cheeks in retaliation. “Don’t worry about it.”

Gon frowned at him as best he could with his mouth stretched into a flat line, but then an explosion happened on screen and his attention flitted away. Killua breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked up at Ikalgo, who was biting his lip, eyes wide with guilt. Killua felt a stab of it himself before giving Ikalgo a hasty thumbs up. It wasn’t his fault Killua had been running away from the “oh yeah I almost died” conversation, but it was the last thing Gon—still working to regain his Nen, still fighting against the belief that he shouldn’t be anywhere near Killua until then—needed to hear, for both their sakes. Killua had to convince Gon that he was invincible. It was the only way to keep him from leaving.

A final dart in Andy’s chest had him bleeding out on a brightly patterned carpet. Killua tried stop his hands from shaking by making fists but found they were too weak to hold the form, so instead he repetitively ran his fingers through Gon’s hair, staring straight ahead at the screen, unblinking.

Blood pooled under Andy’s body. He gurgled it up, choking and sputtering and drowning on it. His eye was a mess of gore. Killua’s body ached with phantom echoes of pain. He pressed a hand into his stomach, trying to fight off the sense of _wrongness_. His long healed scar felt as though it could rip open like wet paper.

Suddenly, the shadows of the room felt thick and tangible. Instead of the television set reaching out to illuminate, it was the darkness that slunk nearer, catching footholds wherever it could and only surrendering to the light when it knew its movements would be noticed. Sounds faded like there was water in his ears, amplifying his own fragile heartbeat. Killua’s hand, still petting Gon’s hair, felt heavy and clumsy. The idea of the unknown lurking all around them made the hair on his neck stand on end. An attack with no warning could be hovering over him like a butcher's knife. He could be hurt anytime, anywhere, without any reason. Safety was an illusion and Killua was no fool. He was powerless to do anything, and he knew it. Terror rocked through him hard enough that his lower lip trembled. He bit down on it, hard enough to hurt.

Gon yelped.

The world slammed back into Killua with intense vibrancy. Gon sat bolt upright, his hair on end, back rigid. Killua realized what had happened. He gasped, horrified at himself.

“I am so sorry,” said Killua, panic bubbling in his chest. He reached out to Gon, fighting against stinging tears. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s okay, Killua,” laughed Gon. Laughing. Laughing?

Killua stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. Gon lay back down, stray hairs still poofed by static, and gazed up at Killua playfully. “Can’t believe you got spooked by a jumpscare.” Gon’s expression suddenly shifted, his eyebrows drawing together. “Killua?” He sat back up, one hand sliding up to Killua’s cheek, the other resting on his shoulder. “Can you pause it?” said Gon, glancing at Leorio.

“What? Why?” said Leorio, lazy gaze trained on the movie. “It’s just getting good.”

Gon’s features hardened. “Leorio.”

“It’s okay,” said Killua. And then to Leorio, “I’m fine. Keep it on.”

“You are not fine,” said Gon, scowling. “Don’t _lie_ to me.”

“Gon…“ said Killua, batting at his chest. The TV was paused. The pain in his stomach flared and Killua grabbed a fistful of his own shirt.

“What’s going on,” said Gon.

Killua risked a look into his eyes and regretted it immediately. The thinly-veiled anger made his heart hammer and a painful ache settle in his throat. Killua felt the first tears slide down his cheeks. He sniffled. “Gon,” said Killua, half warning and half begging him to stop.

“Killua,” said Gon, voice as forgiving as stone.

“Gon,” said Ikalgo. “Leave him be.”

Gon looked over his shoulder, nose scrunched up. “Something’s wrong,” said Gon.

“I’m okay,” said Killua. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

Gon all but snarled at him. “You’re _crying._ ” Killua flinched. He had heard that same streak of anger before. He tried to push Gon off of him but could hardly manage to put any weight behind his hand.

“Let me up,” said Killua, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Gon, that’s enough,” said Leorio, wrapping a hand around Gon’s wrist. Gon shook it off jerkily, shooting Leorio a dark glare. 

Leorio held his palms up, backing off.

“Gon, I can’t breathe, give me space,” said Killua, and it was the truth.

Gon looked at him with a mixture of hurt and betrayal as he stood up from the couch, sliding so they wouldn’t touch. His Nen felt volatile, too eager to flee for him to control it. He didn’t want to shock Gon again.

“Killua?” said Gon.

He was out the front door.

The gravel road flew under his feet and his aura sparked across his skin. Killua didn’t know the area well, but he didn’t need to. He just wanted to get away.

Killua deked into the tree line. He jumped over fallen logs and mucky pools of water, weaving in between the trees like a shuttle through thread. He had no doubt that Gon was going to come looking for him. Right now, he was just buying himself time he could use to avoid the inevitable.

Killua caught the blade-thin moon in flashes above the canopy and used it to keep himself on somewhat of a straight course, though he had no idea in what direction.

He ran until his Nen sputtered out with dying gasps, and then he crawled up into an old pine tree, bare toes scrabbling against the bark. Killua found a branch strong enough to hold his weight. He leaned his back against the scratchy trunk, curled his arms around his knees, and began to wail.

He was afraid. Afraid of Gon finding out how weak he really was. Afraid that Gon would leave, that Gon would blame himself, that Gon would be angry with him for hiding it. Afraid this meant he was going to lose his best friend. Killua wanted a long breeze to pick up his body and delicately discarded him across the globe. He wanted Gon and Alluka and Leorio and Kurapika and Ikalgo to forget him. He didn’t want them to miss him and he didn’t want to leave, he just wanted to stop existing, to stop having ever existed.

Killua should have been over it by now. Four _years._ Four years should have been more than enough time to get over anything! But the ridiculous, suffocating fear still sprung upon him when he least expected it. He was ashamed, and furious at his own frailty.

Killua shivered as the fall wind blew through his clothes. Something snapped out in the woods and he flinched tighter.

Pathetic.

All he ever did was run away from his problems. He never fixed anything. He just let things fester until they either burned themselves to nothing or blew up in his face.

Why was he so scared Gon would leave him? It was for the best, anyway. Gon didn’t deserve a mess like him. Gon could be someone amazing, and Killua was holding him back. If he weren’t so selfish he would have cut Gon off a long time ago, instead of dragging out the inevitable crumble.

Killua yelled in frustration before slamming his head back into the bark hard enough he saw stars.

Stupid. He was stupid.

He hid his face, still leaking tears and snot, in his arms and waited with sickly, fearful anticipation.

He hadn’t been expecting Gon to use Zetsu, and so when someone appeared right at the bottom of the tree Killua cried out, on his feet and tensed to fight despite his shaking knees before he realized who it was. Killua breathed a sigh of relief that turned into a sob. Gon moved up the trunk with athletic grace and Killua slid back down, sitting with a jarring thunk.

He held his breath as Gon swung into the branch right beside his. Killua couldn’t bring himself to look Gon in the eye.

Gon just sat there for a moment, quietly examining Killua’s features as Killua cried. It wasn’t often that Gon directed his full attention onto Killua, but whenever he did, Killua felt as though there was no barrier between Gon and his own soul. His rare moments of insightfulness always seemed to disregard the walls that Killua spent so much time carefully constructing.

“Ikalgo told me,” said Gon, voice soft. “Not any details, just… how close it was.” Killua couldn’t bear the heat on his cheeks any longer and so he curled into himself. Gon reached out tentatively towards him, and Killua had to brace himself to not tense when Gon started running a hand through his hair. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut. “I wasn’t angry at you earlier, I was just scared. I’m sorry I made it worse.”

Sobs rattled out of him. Gon kept petting him, touch light.

“I wish I had known,” said Gon, genuine and sweet and deluded. Killua was a coward, and Gon was a fool for not realizing it.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” said Killua.

“Killua, there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I-I’m a bad p-person.”

“You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

Killua wrapped his hands around his head, forcing Gon to lift away. He hovered for a moment, then retreated.

The air around Killua felt heavy, as though it were actively crushing him. 

Gon moved as gracefully water, slipping from one branch to the other. He knelt in front of Killua, balancing himself with a hand on the trunk above Killua’s head. He was close enough that Killua could feel the presence of his body. Gon settled down and dropped his hand onto Killua’s shoulder, just resting it there, as Killua cried himself out.

He needed Gon to _understand_ , and the desire to unfold himself was so strong that it ached in his chest. He was terrified, though, that if he tried to explain himself Gon would leave. Vulnerability was far from Killua’s talent set—bearing one’s heart had little to do with removing them—and the idea of opening himself up to Gon’s judgement and possible rejection made him feel like ants were crawling under his skin.

Eventually, the tears subsided and all that Killua was left with was a blanket calm. He felt drained. There was no fight left in his shaky limbs. The scorch marks of his earlier panic hadn’t faded, but the fire had been put out.

Killua wasn’t sure how long they’d been there—long enough that his joints hurt when he moved them—before he reached out and wrapped his arms around Gon. He pressed his face into Gon’s chest, and Gon draped his arms over Killua’s back, loose but warm. Gon pressed a kiss into the crown of his head before tucking Killua under his chin.

“I was waiting for the right time,” said Killua, voice weak and ragged. He breathed out a wet, shaky sigh. “But it never happened.”

Gon couldn’t squeeze Killua, so instead he pressed down against him. Gon sucked in a breath to speak and then paused. Killua curled in his lips.

Gon was usually predictable, but now, Killua had no idea what he was thinking.

“Why were you scared of me knowing?” asked Gon, quiet, as though the peace between them was gossamer thin.

Killua’s cheeks flushed. There was no way to sugarcoat the answer. “I thought you would leave.”

“Killua,” breathed Gon, and the way he said it left the cavernous, crushing pitch of Killua’s chest yawning wider. “I would never.”

Killua winced. “You… talk about it a lot, though.”

Gon’s hands, which had been nervously rubbing his shirt between pinched fingers, froze. “No… no I…” Gon’s voice tapered off into a wisp, his thoughts left unfinished, swallowed up by the frigid autumn night surrounding them. “Oh.”

Killua bite his lip. All at once, the things he’d been waiting to say built in his throat, and Killua knew that if there was ever going to be a right time, it was then.

“I didn’t… I didn’t want you to know what had happened because I didn’t want you thinking I could get hurt. You talk about needing to protect me and I know you can’t, no matter what, cause bad luck happens to everyone.

“Expecting to be able to stop everything from happening to someone is… it doesn’t work. I learned that with Alluka. And it’s scary, it’s really really scary, to know that you can’t guarantee people are gonna be okay. But just… walking away from them is kind of a shitty solution. For everyone.

“I was worried that if I told you you’d leave, like you were making some noble sacrifice. But it doesn’t work like that. I just want you here. I just… I don’t want to be alone.” Killua’s voice cracked on the last few words, the thought that had been driving him since they met finally spoken.

In the distance, a loon called mournfully. Morning doves cooed. Dawn approached. Killua squeezed his eyes tight, waiting for Gon to do exactly what he had just asked him not to do.

“I want to keep you safe,” said Gon, like the words were a confession.

“I want to keep you safe, too,” said Killua.

Gon leaned back and Killua unfurled, wary and uncertain. Gon pulled him back into a hug, an arm over one of Killua’s and under the other. He squeezed, and Killua’s heart pounded in his chest, afraid this was a goodbye.

“Thank you,” said Gon.

“For what?”

“Telling me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Killua felt tears bubbling again, this time from relief. He held Gon as tight as he dared.

“I love you,” said Gon.

Killua sniffled. “Thank you.”

***

Ikalgo fumed as Alluka picked up a card from Leorio’s discard pile and slammed it down for the round.

“You—you can’t _do_ that!” he sputtered.

Alluka shrugged. “I just did.”

Leorio groaned and Kurapika rubbed his temples. Gon stifled a laugh, and Killua gave his sister a thumbs up. She beamed at him.

Gon and Killua sat with their chairs as close together as they could shove them. Gon’s hand rested on Killua’s thigh, leaving intermittently to play a card but always returning, steady and dependable. For the first time in a long time, the chasm between them felt narrow enough to build a bridge across.

Killua knew it was just the start. There were challenges ahead, and most of them would involve more difficult conversations. Nothing was going to come easy for them, not after what they had been through. But he knew that Gon was as determined as he was to make it work.

It felt good to have his partner back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Ash for beta-ing. Fun fact folks!! Learned "I can't bear it" and "I can't bare it" have very very very very very different meanings!
> 
> Also shoutout to Letti cause I read the nice things you said about my writing whenever I was getting burned out on this. So THANK YOU


End file.
